Emmy And Me

My phone rang while I was touring an old warehouse that I thought might make a good tech development space. I was distracted, thinking about how to remodel to make the place attractive to startups looking for a cool, hip work space and didn’t look at the caller ID, so I had no idea who it was on the other line when I answered.

“He- hello?” stammered a girl’s voice, nervous and unsure.

“Yes? Can I help you?” I asked, turning and walking a few steps away from the realtor agents who had been showing me around.

“Emmy?” the girl asked, not sounding too hopeful.

“No, this is Leah. Emmy isn’t here right now. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,” the girl said, sounding dejected and hopeless.

“Wait,” I said. “Don’t hang up. What’s going on, and how did you get my number?”

“I thought this was Emmy De Lascaux’s phone number. I’m sorry for bothering you,” she said, and I could hear the tears in the girl’s voice. She sounded young, like a high school freshman or maybe still in middle school.

“I’m Emmy’s wife,” I replied. “If you tell me what it is, I can give her the message.”

“Oh,” said the girl. “Um, well… No, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry,” she said, worrying me. This girl was clearly very upset, and it wasn’t just because she didn’t get to talk to her favorite rock star.

“Look, I’m here, and I’m listening,” I said. Trying to make my voice as gentle and comforting as possible. Whatever was going on, this girl needed to talk to somebody, and it just happened to be me that she got on the phone. “Why don’t you tell me your name, and why you wanted to talk to Emmy?”

“My name is Grace,” she began, and suddenly I knew who she was.

“Grace,” I said. “You’re the one she recorded that song for, aren’t you? The one whose favorite song was “I will die (for you), right?”

“Um, yeah,” she said, sniffling.

“What can I do for you, Grace?”

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Grace said, going past just sniffling and now into full-blown crying. Whatever this girl was going through had her really tied up in knots, and it was making me worried. I mean, this girl’s favorite song of Emmy’s was one she thought was about suicide, right?

“Well, I’m glad you called me, Grace. If there’s anything I can do to help you get through whatever’s going on…” I said.

“Miss Farmer?” one of the realtors called to get my attention.

“Grace,” I said, “I need to talk to some people for just a minute. Whatever you do, stay on the line. I really want to talk to you, O.K.?”

Satisfied she wasn’t going to hang up after hearing a small “O.K.” from the other end of the line, I returned to the realtors.

“Look,” I said, “I like the space. I think it has potential, but I’m going to need to bring my builder down here to inspect the place. I’d like to schedule that for tomorrow. I know it’s a Sunday, but I’d like to move on this as soon as possible.”

After one of them agreed to open the place for us the next day, I said “I hate to be rude, but this is a very important phone call and I need to take this. Thanks for your time today.”

Walking back outside to the Aston, I spoke back into the phone. “Grace, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” came the soft voice.

“O.K.” I said. “I’m all yours now. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I didn’t know who else to call,” she repeated. “I just thought…”

“Grace,” I said, gently. “It’s O.K. Whatever it is, if it’s something I can help you with, just let me know. I’ll do what I can.”

Leaning against my car, watching the realtors getting into their various cars to leave, I waved to our guy to wait, and he walked over but stood at a respectful distance away to give Grace and me some privacy.

“It’s too much to ask- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,” Grace said, repeating herself again.

“No, Grace, that’s not true. I’m glad you called, and if it is something I can do, then you definitely did the right thing by calling.” I wanted to cheer her up, and at that point I would have said almost anything to get her to stop crying.

“My parents…” she sobbed. “They… they kicked me out. I don’t have any place to stay.”

‘Oh, damn’ I thought. “Um, can you stay with your friend, the one we met?” I asked, trying to remember the other girl’s name.

“Mary?” Grace asked. “No- I mean, I’m at her house right now, but I can’t stay here for more than a couple of days,” she stammered. “Mary’s mom and dad are really nice, but they go to church with my parents, and I think when they find out I’ve been kicked out, and why, they won’t want me around, either.”

Mentally cursing the ignorant bigots of the world, I asked “Did they find out you’re gay?” in as gentle a voice as I could.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Mom was cleaning my room and found my journal,” she said, or at least that’s what it sounded like through her wracking sobs.

“You said that Mary’s parents will be upset when your folks tell them that you got kicked out because you’re gay, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they won’t want me in their house after that. They just think I’m staying over for a couple of days for a visit. Mary and me, we haven’t told them what happened,” she confirmed.

“What’s going to happen to Mary when they find out their daughter is gay?” I asked, afraid of where this was going to lead.

“Mary’s not gay,” she corrected. “She might get in trouble for having me as a friend, but I don’t think anything more is gonna happen to her.”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied. “I thought you two were…”

“No, we’re just best friends. I don’t like Mary- I mean, I like her, she’s my best friend, but I don’t like her like that,” Grace said, her crying diminishing as she explained the situation to me.

“O.K., sorry for jumping to conclusions. So you’re at Mary’s house right now, so at least you’re safe for the time being, right?” I asked, and when she confirmed my assessment, I continued. “But your parents kicked you out and don’t want to have anything to do with you any more, right?” Again, she agreed that I was correct. “Do you think there’s a chance they might change their minds?” I asked, hopeful this was just a momentary thing.

“No,” she wailed, back into full-on crying.

“Grace, listen to me,” I commanded. “Stop crying. We’ll get through this.” Coming to a unilateral decision, I asked “Where do you live? I mean, what town?”

“Arcata,” she sniffled, trying to get herself under control.

“O.K., look,” I said. “I’m coming up there. It’s like an eight hour drive from here in San Jose,” I said, remembering the funky little hippie town we’d passed through on our way up to Portland. “I have to grab some stuff from home, but I’ll be up there tonight. Is this your phone number?”

“It’s Mary’s phone. My dad took my phone away. He said I was lucky to have the clothes I was wearing,” she said, and I could hear the tears about to burst the dam again.

“O.K., Grace. I’ll call when I get up there, but it’ll probably be too late to do anything tonight, but I’ll let you know when I get into town, and you or Mary can give me the address. Is that O.K.?”

“What are you gonna do?” she asked, suddenly unsure whether she’d made the right call.

“I’m going to talk to your parents. Try to get them to see reason. If that doesn’t work, well, then I’ll think of something. Anyway, you sit tight, Grace. This will all work out, I promise.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice hopeful for the first time.

“If you didn’t think I could make things better, why did you call me?” I asked, hoping it came across as funny rather than flippant.

“I didn’t think I was calling you,” she pointed out. “I thought I was calling Emmy.”

“Oh, yeah,” I admitted, a bit embarrassed. “So what did you think Emmy could do for you?”

“I don’t know,” Grace confessed. “It’s just, well, she’s gay, and she’s famous and everybody loves her, so I was hoping she could somehow, I don’t know… I guess I don’t even know. I just thought maybe she could do something, that’s all,” she said, her voice small and broken.

“Well, you got me instead, and I’m going to do what ever it is I can to make things better,” I promised. “Now I have to get going if I’m gonna get there any time soon.”

“Thanks,” Grace said. “I… thanks,” she finished, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll call you when I get to Arcata. Talk to you then,” I said, and hung up.

Seeing the phone conversation was over, our agent walked over to where I was sitting on the front fender of the Aston.

“So, what did you think?” Nash asked, indicating the warehouse.

“I think the location is primed to be really desirable. I think the space seems fundamentally workable, but it’ll take some money to get it ready for occupants. I also think they’re asking too much, but I know it’s been on the market for a while, so I expect we can hammer them on the price,” I replied.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought, too. I was talking to Gene and he said he thought the sellers were motivated to make a deal, so I think we’re in a strong negotiating position.”

“I do want to get Stan in here to take a look,” I said. “He might spot something that we didn’t, but I’m going to have to run up to Arcata tonight, so I won’t be back in time to do a walkthrough with him tomorrow. Can you meet him here and show him what we talked about?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he said. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Well, I guess I’m not, in some ways. I wanted to meet with Stan tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to come over here on a weekday, but if you’re going to do the walkthrough I guess you can reschedule it to whenever works for you and him,” I admitted.

“Leah,” Nash said. “You say jump, and the rest of us, well, all we need to know is how high do you want it. I mean, you’re the boss, so if you want it done tomorrow, or even this afternoon, for that matter, we’ll do it.”

“I appreciate it, believe me, I do, Nash. You’ve been working hard, and it’s been really great to have you on the team. I just want you to know that.”

“Thanks, Leah. Hey, on another note, Jackie wanted me to invite you and Emmy to dinner next Friday. Jenny’s going to be home from college and I know she’s been dying to meet you.”

“Me?” I asked, surprised. “You mean ‘dying to meet Emmy’, don’t you?”

Laughing, Nash answered “No, you, although I suppose meeting a rock star would be cool, too. No, she’s playing volleyball there at Chico, and when I told her who you were she was thrilled to get the chance to meet one of the top collegiate players in the country.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I teased, “But don’t quit trying.”

Laughing, Nash asked “So you’ll come over?”

“Sure, we’ll be there,” I said, climbing into the low-slung car.

I called Donny to let him know I wasn’t going to be home tonight so we would have to postpone our regular dinner until the next night. At home I threw my power suit and some basic necessities into a garment bag, then hit the road north. Once I was underway I called Sana to have her find me someplace to stay for the night, and when she called back a few minutes later I plugged the address of the bed and breakfast into the GPS. Six hours to arrival, it said, so I turned up the stereo and settled in. If you’re going to be stuck in a car for that long it sure could be a lot worse than the Aston Martin, I thought as I crossed the Golden gate bridge a little bit after noon.

101 isn’t too bad, as far as freeways go, so the time passed quickly and soon enough I was navigating through the streets of Arcata. The B&B that Sana had booked for me was an old Victorian a few blocks from the downtown plaza, and looked nice enough from out in front. I was glad to see it had covered parking in back, because I wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of leaving the Aston on the street.

When I saw my room, I have to admit I was a bit disappointed. I mean, it was nice enough, but not nearly as amazing as the Victorian B&B Emmy and I had stayed in a few miles south the last time we’d passed through the area.

After hanging my garment bag and a quick freshening up I called Grace.

Remembering that she’d told me it was Mary’s phone, I asked for Grace when an unfamiliar girl’s voice answered.

“Is this, Um, Emmy’s girlfriend?” asked the voice.

“Wife,” I corrected. “Is this Mary?”

“Yeah. Um, is Emmy here, too?” the girl asked, her voice hopeful.

“No, sorry. It’s just me today. Emmy is in New York working on an album and couldn’t make it.”

“Oh,” said Mary, disappointment in her voice. “I was hoping…”

“Sorry about that. Anyway, is Grace there?” I asked, getting back on track.

“Uh, yeah, here she is,” Mary replied, and soon enough Grace’s voice said hello.

“You’re here in Arcata? I can’t believe you came,” she said, her voice much calmer than it had been that morning.

“I said I would, didn’t I? Hey, I haven’t had dinner yet. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah, we had dinner about an hour ago,” she said, once again sounding nervous and unsure.

“Well, look. I’d like to talk to you, and maybe talk to your parents. It isn’t as late as I thought it would be by the time I got here, so why don’t I grab a quick bite then come over and pick you up?”

“Pick me up?” she asked. “Um, why?”

“To go see your parents. I’d like to talk to them, see if we can straighten things out,” I explained.

“I don’t think…” Grace said, her voice trailing off.

“What’s the address there?” I asked, not giving her room to lose her nerve.

“Here- talk to Mary,” she said, and handed the phone over. After getting the address and directions, I told them I’d be over in half an hour to give myself time to get dressed. I wanted to look as powerful and intimidating as I could but still classy and refined, so I put on a little bit of makeup, but kept it subtle. I wore the sapphire earrings and cufflinks to give the charcoal suit a bit of color, then went out to find something to eat.

I found Mary’s house easily enough, and when I pulled up in front the door opened almost immediately. Two girls came rushing out to say hello and to look at the car. I recognized the taller girl as the one Emmy and I had met in Ferndale a few months back, so I figured the other must be Grace.

While we were saying our hellos and making our introductions, the rest of Mary’s family came out to see what was going on. When Mary saw her family walking toward us, she whispered “They don’t know what’s going on.”

“Hi!” I said to Mary’s parents. “My name is Leah Farmer. I don’t know if Mary told you I was coming, but I’m here to talk to Grace, and I was told she was here.”